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next is also sacred to herself and her ruling power, and consists in frequent, thorough examination of the state and order of the things committed to her. The third act is social, rendering her treasures available to the good of others. Daily intercourse with a cultivated mind, is the best method to rivet, refine and polish the hoarded gems of knowledge. Conversation with intelligent men, is eminently serviceable. For after all our exu'tation on the advancing state of female education, with the other sex will be found the wealth of classical knowledge and profound wisdom. If you have a parent, or older friend, who will at the close of each day kindly listen to what you have read, and help to fix in your memory the portions most worthy of regard, count it a privilege of no common value, and embrace it with sincere gratitude.
WE ARE BUT two-the others sleep
Through death's untroubled night:
The link that binds us bright.
Heart leaps to heart--the sacred flood
Alike we fondly claim
We in one mother's arms were locked
Long be her love repaid;
Round the same hearth we played.
Our boyish sports were all the same,
Each little joy and wo :-
Lit up so long ago.
WE ARE BUT TWO-be that the band
To hold us till we die;
Till side by side we lie.
I THOUGHT HE SLEPT.
I saw the infant cherub-soft it lay,
yet its little bosom did not move !
Wake, brother, wake !" I then, impatient, cried ; "Open thine eyes, and look on me again !" He would not hear my voice. All pale beside
My weeping mother sat, "and gazed and looked
asked. She answered but with tears.
1 He's dead! I knew not what it meant, but more To know I sought not. For the words so sad“He never will awake"-sunk in my soul :
" I felt a pang unknown before ; and tears, That angels might have shed, my heart dissolved.
SLUMBER's heavy chain hath bound thee
Where is now thy fire ?
Shall they hover higher ?
From inglorious dreams?
With his burning, beams!
Thine was once the highest pinion
In the midway air ;
Thou didst upward bear.
Like the herald, winged with lightning,
From the Olympian throne, Ever mounting, ever brightening,
Thou wert there alone.
Where the pillared props of heaven
Glitter with eternal snows, Where no darkling clouds are driven,
Where no fountain flows-
When the surging storm
We beheld thy form.
From that cloudless region stooping,
Downward thou didst rush,
But the tempest's gush.
Thou didst pierce the cloud, When the warring winds were roaring
Fearfully and loud
Hårk ! his rustling plumage gathers
Closer to his side,
Ocean's hurrying tide
Wide his burning eye-
And his aim-how high !
Now he curves his neck, and proudly
Now is stretched for flight
Hark! his wings—they thunder loudly,
And their flash-how bright!
Through the rock and storm,
Flits his glancing form.
THE YANKEE MARKSMAN.
LORD PERCY, with his regiment, firing at a target on Boston
Common. JONATHAN, an awkward looking country boy, that had outgrown
his jacket and trowsers. Percy. Now, my boys, for å trial of Imagine the mark to be a.Yankee ; and here is a guinea for whoever hits his heart.
[Jonathan draws near to see the trial ; and when
the first soldier fires, and misses, he slaps his hand on his thigh, and laughs immoderately. Lord Percy notices him. When the second soldier fires, and misses, Jonathan throws up
his old hat, and laughs again.] Percy, [very crossly]. Why do you laugh, fellow?
Jonathan. To think how safe the Yankees are; if you must know.
Percy. Why, do you think you could shoot better? Jonathan. I don't know; I could try.
Percy. Give him a gun, soldier, and you may return the fellow's laugh.